Blood and Blossoms
by LittyBrit
Summary: When Sakiko Mizushima needs a hero the most, she is ignored, and left an orphan. An investigation is launched, but no evidence is found to charge the hero who abandoned her family. Living in despair, Sakiko's soul cries out for justice. When the infamous 'Hero Killer' murders a pro hero in her ward, Sakiko cannot suppress her vengeful heart any longer.
1. Fake

_What really matters is not what you believe_

 _but the faith and conviction with which you believe._

\- Knut Hamsun

* * *

The sky was burning. Flames dyed the choking black smoke hues of orange and red, swelling up into the night. Sakiko Mizushima watched as the fire slowly ate away at her house.

Terrified neighbours had fled, and she stood alone in the suburban street as she waited for the emergency services to arrive.

The blinding light of the fire hurt her eyes and she turned away. Pacing, clutching at her hands, her bag, she trembled and prayed her parents had got out. She prayed that they had decided, at the last minute, to eat out, visit a friend, gone to see a movie. Anything but burn to death in that hellfire.

There was a dull thud overhead and Sakiko looked up at the roof of the house opposite. Under the red, bloated sky, Sakiko saw a streak of blue – the hero Ryūjin.

His skin-tight suit was accented with two parallel streaks of silver running down his arms, and they flashed in the firelight. There was no doubt it was him. He was soaring across the rooftops on a stream of water – he must have seen the smoke from the blaze. Ryūjin had the power to produce and manipulate water at will.

Dizzy with joy, Sakiko cried out.

"Ryūjin-san! Oh thank God, Ryūjin-san!"

The hero stopped, his feet clanging on the roof tiles, and looked down at her. He looked at the fire, then back at Sakiko. His eyes were hidden by a teal mask.

"Sorry, kid," he said, "I've gotta run."

Sakiko stared dumbly, cold spreading through her body and filling her brain. No. She couldn't have heard right. He was joking. He had to be joking.

"Please," she whispered. Ryūjin began to move again, and she screamed out. "Please! My parents are still inside! Please!"

Ryūjin's toned body sagged as he sighed. He pointed.

"Look."

Sakiko looked. She could just see the top of a large office building known as the Akita Tower. Smoke billowed out of several windows and reddish smudges of flames could be seen behind them. Sirens screamed into the night, faintly, far away.

"I'm going there. Sorry about your loss, but there's no helping it."

"Please," Sakiko sobbed. She felt faint. "I'll pay you, I'll do anything!"

"Sorry, kid," said the hero, standing. "I gotta go."

Water coiled around his legs and feet and he surged onward, sailing over the rooftops towards the burning tower block.

Sakiko watched him go, breathless and cold. Quirkless, she had no power to stop him. _No_ , she thought. _Please turn around. Come back. My parents are burning. Save them. Please save them..._

Tears rolled down her cheeks and mixed with sweat. Falling to her knees, she could not feel the pain from the impact, neither could she hear the shrieks of the fire engine and ambulance as they arrived. Even the concerned voices of the medics and firemen could not reach her.

It was almost too absurd to believe; her brain actively revolted against the reality of what had happened. A hero was meant to protect people, to save them, no matter what. How many times had she seen the cheerful, glowing heroics of All Might and the other 'Pro Heroes' on her TV screen and with her own eyes? How many times had she seen Ryūjin, resident of her own Sanoda ward, grinning triumphantly in the aftermath of a disaster he prevented?

Sakiko let herself be taken aside by paramedics as firemen tackled the inferno, shouting orders to one another over the roar of water from their fire hoses. The fire was too large and fearsome to risk any one of them going in, they said. The fire would have to be subdued first.

The paramedics spoke to her kindly, sat her down in the ambulance and checked for injuries.

"He left me," Sakiko whispered.

"Who did, dear?" asked the female medic.

"Ryūjin. He was here. He saw me – saw my house... but..."

"You mean he _ignored_ the fire?"

"Yes."

The woman frowned, her large, motherly eyes full of concern.

"But dear, he's a hero. Are you sure you saw Ryūjin-san?"

"Yes!" Sakiko burst out. "He was here! I saw him!"

"Now, now, I don't mean to doubt you," the woman said soothingly, applying a plaster to her scraped knee. "Make sure you talk to the police about it. They'll help you."

Sakiko nodded, and she broke down.

The paramedic gave her a hug.

"Oh sweetie, we'll do everything we can, I promise."

* * *

The police had arrived on the scene soon after. They assured Sakiko as best they could and listened to her recount of events. Once they were sure she was fit to do so, they drove Sakiko to her grandmother's house half an hour away.

She stared out at the streets rushing past her window in a daze. She hadn't the energy to cry or scream anymore. She felt heavy, as if her whole body wanted to just lie down and never get up. Her throat hurt, and her eyelids were puffy and red. Was this all a dream? If she went to sleep now, would she wake up in her bedroom at home?

If she slept forever, would that be so bad?

One question kept circulating, slowly, painfully, in her mind: Why did Ryūjin leave her house to burn?

Perhaps she had imagined it. Perhaps Ryūjin had never been on the rooftop in the first place, and in her panic she had lost touch with reality.

The hero's streamlined blue uniform, his pitiless masked eyes, burned into her mind's eye like the fire.

" _'Sorry kid, I've gotta go._ '"

Those words, so clear, so devastating... they were real. Sakiko sat bolt upright in her seat, her nails digging into the flesh of her palms. Her vision watering with tears, rage and self-hatred made her clench her hands and break the skin with her nails. She would not doubt what her eyes saw. He was there. He did leave. If she had really lost it at that moment, she would have imagined the hero saving her home, not leaving it to burn. The house and...

She began crying again.

The officer next to her in the passenger seat put a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, we're nearly there. Your grandmother will be with you soon."

* * *

After a minute of waiting Sakiko's grandmother came to the door, half-asleep and blinking at the two officers and girl on her doorstep. Her grey hair was tousled from sleep, her tiny body hugged by spotted cotton pyjamas.

"Who on earth...?"

Seeing her reminded Sakiko of her grief and she flung herself into her grandmother's arms wailing.

"Sakiko!" the old woman gasped. "What happened?"

The two officers introduced themselves, produced their badges, and asked to come inside.

Sakiko's grandmother, with a growing sense of dread, led the officers and her sobbing granddaughter to the living-room.

It was there that the officers told her what had happened. They spoke well, but their voices were like knives.

Kiko Mizushima's voice trembled as she spoke.

"You mean... my daughter and son-in-law are...?"

"We are so sorry."

When her grandmother began to sob Sakiko knew that what she had so desperately tried to reject was true, and she wept along with her. They clutched each other as if the world might them apart.

* * *

The the cause of the fire was found to be an explosion caused by a gas leak from the old and faulty boiler in the Mizushima home.

The bodies of Chiyo and Daisuke Mizushima were recovered from the burnt-out remains of the building. After the funeral service, relatives and friends made their way to the crematorium. There, Sakiko watched her grandmother and aunt pick out the bones of her parents from the ashes and place them in the burial urn. She dug her nails deep into the palms of her hands and willed herself not to scream.

Returning to her grandmother's house, the urn was placed on the altar of the old wooden butsudan. The shrine had been in the family for generations, and the hinges of the doors whined as they were opened. One after the other, each family member placed offerings of flowers, candles, fruit and religious items like incense while the local priest chanted sutras. They knelt together in rows, hunched black shadows, before the urn.

Sakiko's eyes began to well up as Kazu Sakamoto placed a small cup of her father's favourite tea on one of the platforms. She had lost count of the times the two friends had shared tea together.

"Dad'll like that," she whispered to Kazu as he sat back down.

Kazu smiled through tears and nodded.

Finishing their prayers, everyone except Sakiko and her grandmother quietly stood to retire for dinner.

"Grandma," Sakiko said, "I'd like to stay here a little longer."

Her grandmother nodded.

"Aright. I'll stay with you."

Sakiko's aunt squeezed the girl's shoulder before leaving with the others.

A few moments of silence lingered. The tiny flames of the candles flickered, shining like stars in the dim, and tendrils of incense smoke drifted upward and filled the room with a faint bitter scent.

"Grandma."

The anger that had been simmering within Sakiko could no longer be contained. Her parents' bones rested in peace, but their souls, their lives, had been forsaken by a hero, the very individual whose duty it was to save them.

"Grandma." Gripping the fabric of her skirt, she spoke in a voice sharpened by fury. "Ryūjin left them to die. I can't forgive him."

Her grandmother nodded.

"I understand. Have you told the police?"

"Yes. They want me to contact them as soon as possible."

The old woman's face glimmered in the candlelight as she smiled.

"Good."

They held hands and gazed at the photographs of the ones they had lost for a little longer before joining the rest of the family. Though this part of the occasion was more light-hearted, stories and jokes bringing laughter with tears, Sakiko felt as if part of herself was separated from the table, existing in a dark place where the fire that took away her loved ones still raged, the false hero Ryūjin looking coldly, silently on.

* * *

The next day Sakiko called the police. Removed from the horror of that evening, Sakiko was able to give a full account of everything that occurred, including her confrontation with Ryūjin.

After giving her statement, she was told that she would be contacted again during the investigation with progress updates. Detectives Manabu Abe and Yushin Hideki were to be put on the case.

Sakiko thanked them and put down the phone.

Sighing softly, she closed her eyes and prayed it would not be too long before justice was done.

The days following ran into each other and merged like drops of water on window panes, and while Sakiko continued to attend school and go about her daily business, every second between phone calls from the police felt like waiting.

The first update made Sakiko's heart hammer: no forensic evidence had been found at the scene to show the hero had been there. The next step was to seize and examine the CCTV footage from the immediate area to see if any images of Ryūjin at the scene could be found.

Life became nothing but home, school, and home again, hopeful eyes glancing at the telephone in the hall.

To make matters worse, after checking the local papers she noticed that not a whisper of the incident had made news – the media was still gushing over Ryūjin's heroic rescue of the residents in the burning Akita Tower. Sakiko tore at the paper, shredding it with her fingers. Did the hero have journalists as friends, or was this...?

" _That bastard!_ "

"Sakiko," her grandmother said. "We must be patient."

Sakiko had no choice but to be patient, though not a night went by that she did not lie awake, paralysed with fear. If Ryūjin was found innocent, what would she do? What could she do? The thought of continuing on with a smile while a lying, murdering hero walked the streets terrified her. A lifetime of pretending she had never seen the hero that day, that he had never seen her burning house and turned his back…

* * *

Sakiko and her grandmother were having dinner one drizzly afternoon when the phone rang. Rushing into the hall, she hesitated, breathless, trembling, before picking up. Somehow she knew that this would be the final call.

"M-Mizushima residence."

"Good afternoon," said a man's voice, "this is Yushin Hideki from the Sanoda police department. I am calling to inform you that, regrettably, we will be discontinuing the investigation."

Sakiko stared into the empty space and felt her body begin to shake. She opened her mouth but could not speak. She could barely feel the touch of her grandmother's hand on her arm.

"We examined the CCTV footage provided to us thoroughly," Hideki went on, "and while we could clearly see you, Mizushima-san, no camera was able to capture Ryūjin-san. They were not aimed in the position to see the roof from which he spoke to you. I am sorry."

" _ **He was there!**_ " Sakiko screamed. " ** _He left my parents to die! He was there!_** "

"Sakiko!" her grandmother cried.

"We are truly sorry, Mizushima-san," Hideki said, "but we cannot charge Ryūjin-san without sufficient evidence."

Sakiko collapsed to her knees and wept. All those grey days of waiting had come to nothing. The lives of her mother and father had been snuffed out and the world would never know. The hero Ryūjin would continue his work, worshipped and glorified. Others like her parents would die. Hideki's muffled apologies could not reach her.

Her grandmother put the phone back on the receiver before dropping to her knees and holding Sakiko as she wailed on her hands and knees, unable to stand up.

The grey days, merging like drops of water, would continue.


	2. Whisper

Later that evening Sakiko received another call, this time from Detective Manabu Abe. He began by apologising on his and his colleague's behalf. Sakiko was no longer interested in anything they had to say, and she was about to put the phone down when Abe said something that made her hand freeze in mid-air.

"For my colleague's shameful behaviour, I apologise!"

Sakiko paused.

"What do you mean?"

Abe explained that Hideki had become emotionally involved in her case as time went on. In accordance with procedure, a letter detailing the decision to discontinue the investigation as the reasons for the decision was to be sent to her. Hideki, however, had taken it upon himself to contact the Mizushima household himself to break the news.

Not only that, but Hideki had left out a piece of information just as crucial that led the detectives to their conclusion: that they had interviewed Ryūjin at the police station prior to the examination of physical evidence. Hideki had volunteered to contact the Mizushimas with the update, but failed to do so and lied to his colleagues. He hadn't been able to bring himself to tell the family that Ryūjin had denied any knowledge of the house fire or seeing a girl resembling Sakiko prior to tackling the fire at Akita Tower.

He claimed he had been in the neighbouring Akita City along with two fellow pros, who Abe could not name. On being interviewed separately the pair confirmed the hero's alibi.

This, along with the lack of physical proof of Ryūjin's presence in Sakiko's neighbourhood at the time of the fire gave the detectives no alternative but to discontinue the investigation.

Sakiko was speechless. Abe's assurances that his colleague would be severely disciplined received only a murmur of acknowledgement. The detective made no excuses, apologising again and telling Sakiko that if she had any concerns or questions in the future she was to please inform the authorities.

Sakiko nodded.

"Yes."

 _Yeah right._

Abe wished her a good night and ended the call.

Sakiko put down the phone. As she stared into the middle distance, she turned over Abe's words in her mind. What the hell was going on? A detective had deliberately hidden information from both the victims of a crime and his own colleagues because his emotions got the best of him?

To Sakiko, this could only mean one or more of the following: that Hideki was incompetent and unfit to be a detective, that Hideki had children Sakiko's age and couldn't bear to hurt her more than he had to, or, most frighteningly of all, that Hideki had experienced – personally or otherwise – a similar crime himself.

It seemed so obvious to her now. In a world where 80% of the population were born with Quirks, and a sizeable chunk of them grew up to become professional heroes, it only made sense that at least one would screw up and desperately cover his tracks to save his career. At worst, a hero could _deliberately_ ignore those in peril to achieve greater respect or greater profit.

Ryūjin was one of them, and Sakiko could not presume that this had been his first act of negligence. He had used his Quirk to destroy the physical evidence of his presence on that rooftop, and two friends of his had provided a false alibi without hesitation. Of course, the destruction of evidence could have been a lucky coincidence and he may have pre-empted police questioning and quickly told his friends to cover for him if it ever came to that.

Either way, justice had been botched. Corruption ate away at the heroes Sakiko had once admired and made them rotten. It was at this moment that she realised that her vision of the great men and women whom she had depended on had been obliterated. What could she do? What could anybody do? How long had she listened to All Might's rousing speeches about the duty of heroes to be selfless, kind and fair?

Was All Might a liar too?

Slowly, Sakiko made her way to the living room where her grandmother sat sipping tea and watching TV.

When Sakiko spoke her voice cracked.

"Grandma."

The old woman knew something was wrong immediately and switched the TV off.

"What happened?"

Sakiko couldn't hide it. Hideki may have had her wellbeing at heart, but by concealing the truth he had indirectly protected Ryūjin and his image from the hatred they deserved. Not only had he neglected his duty but he had shamelessly lied to protect himself. He was no hero, and his victims had the right to know that even if nothing could be done.

" _I hate them, Grandma!_ " Sakiko raged. " _I hate them all!_ "

* * *

Sakiko had heard of the so-called 'Hero Killer: Stain' before. It was impossible to be ignorant of the existence of the murderer. News of his crimes was plastered all over the televisions, the newspapers, and especially the internet. His victims were professional heroes, and already he had thirteen deaths and sixteen injuries to his name.

Stain had previously been active in the neighbouring Akita City, where he had killed three pros and wounded five others so badly they would never work again. Fears that the killer would strike in Sanoda were realised two weeks after Sakiko received the two detectives' calls that terrible afternoon, when one morning the Hero Killer murdered the hero Eltrocus.

Eltrocus had been out on his regular patrol, strolling down a deserted side street, when he heard the familiar voice of a fellow pro, Deltic, cry out. Rushing forward and turning a corner, Eltrocus was faced with the sight of his friend lying in a pool of blood. Standing over him was Stain, and at the end of a short battle Eltrocus lay dead.

Either by a deliberate calculation on the villain's part or sheer luck, Deltic survived the ordeal. Soon news of the Hero Killer's apparent relocation to Sanoda flooded the airwaves. Pros and police were on high alert, and citizens were advised to travel in groups and stick to the main thoroughfares for safety. So far the killer had kept to his name and had not killed any civilians, but while there was so much uncertainty regarding the killer it was better to be safe than sorry.

The TV had been on as Sakiko and her grandmother sat down for breakfast, buzzing harmlessly in the background as they tucked into their meal. Sakiko was about to pop a clump of rice in her mouth when something on the TV made her stop and stare.

Her grandmother glanced up and noticed Sakiko staring.

"Sakiko? What's the matter?"

"Look," she said.

The old woman looked, her eyes widening as the full horror of what she saw sank in. Images of the street, swarmed by police and forensic scientists and onlookers followed the news anchor's solemn announcement.

"Eltrocus… murdered?" Kiko whispered. She shook her head. "That poor young man!"

"I wonder why he's doing this," Sakiko said, as blood stains briefly flashed into view before being replaced by video of a bandaged, broken Deltic recounting the horror.

"I don't see any reason that could justify that!" her grandmother said, the wrinkles in her face bunched up as she glared at the screen. "Eltrocus and Deltic were fine heroes."

"Yeah."

 _But were they?_

Sakiko remembered seeing the pair, their cheery smiles as they greeted and assisted citizens, their courage as they faced evil.

 _But was it real?_

Not too long ago she would have thought the same about Ryūjin, and had the Hero Killer murdered him she would have mourned without being any the wiser as to his true nature. Convinced of his goodness, she would have grieved for him, unaware of the pain he had caused...

"Sakiko!"

Sakiko jolted and looked at her grandmother's exasperated face.

"Huh?"

"The TV isn't even on anymore and you're still staring at it," the old woman said. "Wake up. That man killed poor Eltrocus in broad daylight. He's a madman. You promise me you'll stick with your friends and contact me wherever you are until he's caught, understand?"

"Y-yes. I promise."

Her grandmother's expression softened.

"Please eat. The mackerel will get cold."

Sakiko nodded sheepishly and began to eat; yet throughout the conversation that followed and until late that night her mind could not let go of the Hero Killer and the stains of Eltrocus's blood on the concrete.

* * *

 _Why did the Hero Killer target heroes?_

Sakiko pondered on the question as she made her way to school one chilly spring morning, deaf to the the howl of the city - the shrieks, the honks, the whirs and the cries.

From the statements those who had fought him and lived, Stain was powerful enough to render even veteran heroes helpless before his blades. He was one man, presumably working alone, methodically and ruthlessly making his way from place to place, going toe-to-toe with the strongest living beings alive on the planet.

Of course, the Hero Killer could simply be a madman with a powerful Quirk who got a kick out of slaying the strongest heroes; still, the possibility of a grudge or similar, deeper motive could not be ruled out.

 _There are hundreds, if not thousands of heroes in Japan alone,_ Sakiko thought, _yet the Hero Killer only has thirteen deaths to his name. Someone powerful enough to tackle those super beings and crazy enough to kill them in cold blood can't be this picky without having a reason…_

"Sakiko-chan~!"

Sakiko turned and saw her classmate, Miho, running to catch up. Miho's bob of black hair bounced as she moved, her slim body swaying as if she was constantly dancing to a song in her head. The corners of her mouth were almost permanently touching her bubbly pink cheeks.

"I was calling you," she said.

Sakiko smiled weakly.

"Uh – sorry, I was just thinking," she said.

"That was some serious thinking power!" Miho cried, poking at Sakiko's head. "You sure you're Quirkless?"

"Positive."

"So what were you thinking about?"

 _Is this girl an idiot?_ Sakiko thought. _It's not like my parents' deaths were a secret – her mother came to their funeral!_

"Just … the English exam," she said, quickening her step.

"Oh my God, _same!_ " Miho whined. "I'm so nervous – I'm gonna fail, I just know it!"

 _Please fail._

Sakiko felt a bit mean thinking that. Perhaps this was Miho's attempt to cheer her up.

"I'm sure you'll be fine."

"I hope so!"

A few moments of silence passed between them, Miho bouncing at Sakiko's side as they crossed the road and walked along the pavement leading to their school.

"Say," Miho said, looking doe-eyed up at the taller Sakiko, "you're smart, Sakiko-chan. If you want, could you tutor me?"

Sakiko stopped. She could see her three friends waving to her from the school gates. Rage filled her body like rising heat.

"So that's what you wanted all this time," she murmured.

Miho blinked, her smile frozen in place.

"Eh?"

"Go to hell," Sakiko spat. "I hope you fail the exam – no, _every damn exam you take!_ "

She ran before Miho could reply, meeting her friends at the gates. Comforted by their concern she gathered herself enough to enter school with a brave face.

* * *

At lunchtime, Sakiko sat with her friends in the canteen and chatted over the buzz of noise and activity. A widescreen TV hung on the wall on the opposite side of the hall. The news was on, detailing two separate attacks on pro heroes by the Hero Killer elsewhere in Sanoda ward. Sakiko's friends watched with vague interest.

"Lunatic's on a mission," the tallest member of the group, Mizuki, muttered, sipping juice from a straw.

"I hope someone catches him soon," said Yui.

"Yeah," Yuzu said. A clump of curled hair fell into her face and she brushed it away. "If regular pros can't do it, maybe All Might?"

"Yeah, All Might! It has to be All Might."

Sakiko sat in silence. She hadn't told a soul about Ryūjin's involvement in her parents' deaths. At first she had simply refused to discuss the incident entirely, but once the investigation had been launched Sakiko had been forbidden from violating the hero's right to remain anonymous until found guilty. The hero was innocent in the eyes of the law, and any continuing accusations against him with no evidence to support it would be seen as slander.

Sakiko understood this. There was nothing more the police or the detectives could do. As her grandmother kept reminding her, sometimes there is simply nothing to be done.

Yet the hate and the rage she felt still burned inside her; an inextinguishable fire that kept her awake at night. She spent less and less time with her friends, preferring the solitude of her thoughts. Her vengeful heart whispered to her: He killed your parents and got away with it!

She had to do something. She had to do something!

"Look, Ryūjin-sama!"

"Ryūjin!"

"So cool!"

Sakiko saw everyone looking at the TV and followed their gazes. Sure enough, there was Ryūjin, waving at a cheering crowd. The news announcer informed eager listeners that the pro hero had used his hydrokinetic powers to wash away a band of rampaging villains in Akita City.

Sakiko felt sick. Getting up from her seat she rushed out of the canteen before any of her friends could stop her. Pushing through the door of the girl's toilets she threw herself over the nearest sink and retched. Her throat and eyes burned and her body shuddered.

 _He doesn't care… he carries on like nothing happened._

 _I hate him._

 _I hate him!_

 _He should—_

"Sakiko! Are you alright?"

Her friends all came into the toilets, saw her, and immediately gathered around to help.

"Oh my god, are you sick?" said Yui, putting a hand on Sakiko's shoulder.

Mizuki rummaged in her bag.

"Hang on, I have tissues!"

"I have water!" Akami said.

Sakiko smiled despite her pain, her eyes streaming.

"Th-thanks guys," she whispered hoarsely, taking a tissue and wiping it across her mouth. "I'm OK. Must be something I ate."

* * *

On the way to the cemetery under the red afternoon sky, Sakiko had a terrifying thought: _How many people had Ryūjin ignored to save those people from the villain?_

The air around her seemed to drop and she shivered. How many more people would have to suffer before he was finally caught? How many years would she have to live in pain and silence before he was punished? Why had it taken so long to see the truth? Why did her parents have to die so she could see it?

She saw Ryūjin's smiling face, that carefree, oblivious smile, mocking her, laughing at her, saying: _I killed your parents and got away with it!_

Tears stinging her eyes, Sakiko clenched her fists. She wanted to murder the bastard herself, but with no Quirk she was as helpless as she had been to stop the fire or save her parents from the blaze. She bit her lip, cursing herself.

 _Mama, Papa. I'm sorry. I'm too weak._

From the news reports, Sakiko knew the hero had been spending more of his time away from his office in Sanoda since the investigation, tackling large-scale incidents in neighbouring cities like Akita. Since the Hero Killer had struck in her city, Ryūjin had been even less active.

Hero Killer: Stain…

Sakiko's eyes widened. A giggle left her lips. Of course, it was so obvious! Ryūjin was afraid of Stain. Whether it had been guilt that had kept him away before, now the false hero had almost entirely abandoned Sanoda for fear of his own life.

The skyscrapers of the city were darkened in shadow cast by the blazing sun as it dipped below the sea of cloud on the horizon. The red sky reflected in Sakiko's eyes and her heart pounded. The flame of conviction burned brightly inside her.

There was only one person who could possibly help her now. The police were useless, the heroes couldn't be trusted, and no ordinary human being stood a chance. She would not live in dutiful silence anymore. She would not whisper her secret to the earth for the reeds to whisper " _Ryūjin killed my parents and got away with it_ " and be satisfied. She would pay him back with blood.

If the Hero Killer wanted heroes to murder, Sakiko would give him one.

Yes. Stain. It had to be Stain.

In that moment, Sakiko's hunt for the Hero Killer began.


	3. Hunt

The first step was to find out as much information on the Hero Killer as possible. This meant Sakiko examining every piece of relevant article, news broadcast, anything that could give her a clear idea of how to go about her search.

Before she set out that morning, Sakiko prayed in front of the _butsudan_.

 _Mama. Papa. This is the only thing I can do for you now._

Walking to school, Sakiko felt the overwhelming presence of the buildings either side of her. She could not grow in size and look down on them; she could not raze them to the ground, melt them into goo or crush them with her fingertips. Her tiny, insignificant self could do nothing to combat the giants surrounding her, just as she could do nothing against the living titans that were heroes.

Gripping the straps of her rucksack, Sakiko pushed onward. She had work to do.

* * *

Sakiko needed to know how the villain operated. Did he kill mostly at night or during the day? Did he kill mostly in the street or in alleys, outside or indoors? Did he target a particular type of hero, or was he indiscriminate? How often did he change locations? Did he move on after so many kills or injuries?

To this end, Sakiko spent the next week almost exclusively in the school library, slowly but surely gathering the information she needed and compiling them together in her notebook.

First, she needed to get a rough idea of how long she would have until the killer moved on to the next city. It was common knowledge that the killer had been active in several other cities before, Akita being one. He was not content with sticking to one place, whether driven by a personal motive or simply as a way to stay one step ahead of the police or a mixture both.

Looking at archived newspaper articles online, Sakiko discovered that Stain had been active for at least six months prior to striking in Sanoda. He had injured at least four heroes in each town he had been active in. The current number of injured pros currently totalled at seventeen, including Deltic, meaning that Stain had been in at least four towns during the course of his killing spree.

Sakiko bit the nail of her thumb, thinking.

 _This means Stain has spent a month at least in each town. He's finished his work in Akita, so he will injure at least three more heroes here before moving on. I have one month at least – no, at most. I can't be complacent…_

The police were upping their security and vigilance, sending their best personnel to Sanoda in a bid to catch Stain. Pro heroes, too, were on high alert and searching for him almost as diligently as the Hero Killer was searching for them.

Stain had to be aware of this. It would make sense if he finished what he came to do in Sanoda earlier than usual. Sakiko couldn't rest on her laurels. She had to act fast. The killer seemed to be focused on Tokyo as a whole, but if anything seriously got in the way he could easily slip away elsewhere.

Sakiko couldn't allow that.

Suddenly she noticed schoolmates around her getting up and filing out of the library. Sighing, she carefully filed her gathered evidence away into her backpack. Satisfied, she followed the others to her next class.

* * *

When Sakiko returned home at the end of the week her grandmother raised an eyebrow as her rucksack hit the floor with a dull thud.

"What on earth are you carrying in there?" she asked.

"Books, Grandma," Sakiko lied. "Exams are coming up - got to study."

"Sakiko," her grandmother said slowly, "you haven't been going out with your friends at all recently. Don't choose books over them."

Sakiko blinked. It was only then that she realised that she had not seen her friends in days. At some point or another they had just disappeared from her life.

"They're studying too, Grandma," she said. "We agreed that until the exams are over we'll stay in and study. Mizuki's mother has been really hard on her to get good grades this year."

Sakiko's grandmother rolled her eyes.

"Goodness, you kids," she sighed. "Well, I guess it can't be helped."

Sakiko smiled.

"You weren't the studious type, were you, Grandma?"

"That has nothing to do with it!" her grandmother huffed. "Now, help me with dinner."

Sakiko wanted to continue her research, but she couldn't refuse; certainly not after having lied to her grandmother's face. Rolling up her sleeves she followed Kiko into the kitchen. Every inch of the compact space that could be spared was packed with cabinets, appliances knick-knacks and clutter. The stove, sink and stainless steel countertops were crammed together in one corner of the room along with the fridge.

Sakiko's grandmother pottered about gathering ingredients while Sakiko looked on.

"What're we making?" she asked.

" _Tamago don_ ," the old woman replied, sliding the chopping board piled with mushrooms and a large onion across the counter towards her. "You get started while I prepare the rice."

"OK."

While her grandmother busied herself with the electric rice cooker, Sakiko started chopping up the mushrooms. The methodical cutting motions allowed her mind to drift, and began to review her research so far.

Three things were clear: one, if she wanted to set eyes on the Hero Killer, she had the best chance at night; two, that she now had three weeks or so in which to do it, and third, that she would have to frequent the killer's favourite pick of location – alleyways or backstreets, like the one in which Stain had killed Eltrocus.

That left only one big question unanswered: what kind of pro hero did Stain hunt?

The one trait his victims all shared was that, by and large, they were based in the city in which the killer had struck. That narrowed it the potential victim candidates down significantly, but that still left dozens of heroes and many dozens of sidekicks. Pros were not bound to their offices either, and Stain had killed heroes who were outside their normal base of operation before.

 _If I could figure out the Hero Killer's next victim, she thought, it would make my search so much easier. But that could take long – too long... and anyway, I have enough to –_

" _Ouch!_ "

A sharp, stabbing pain ran up her arm from her index finger and Sakiko dropped the knife she was holding. She'd cut the tip of her finger, and a fat crimson bead of blood rose up and slid down onto the cutting board.

Her grandmother saw what she had done and hurriedly grabbed the first aid box from a cabinet. She ran Sakiko's finger under cold water before applying a plaster.

"You have to be careful, dear," she said.

"Yes, Grandma," Sakiko murmured.

The cut was small, but it bled badly. Three plasters were disposed of before a bandage finally got it under control. Sakiko was then able to continue the preparations, forcing herself to focus on her work.

 _Later_ , she thought. _Later, I'll…_

After dinner Kiko switched on the TV, immediately tuning in to the news. Sakiko hovered by her grandmother's chair, stuck between her desire to continue her research and her curiosity. A reporter stood in the foreground of a gathering of police outside what looked like an alleyway, the blinding lights of their vehicles flashing in the darkness.

"…police are still investigating the area," the announcer said. "Nothing has been confirmed yet, but there is a strong suspicion among the officers that this is once again the doing of the Hero Killer: Stain."

"Another one?" Kiko murmured.

Her granddaughter stared at the screen, looking at the text scrolling below the footage. Another pro hero murdered in Sanoda – a woman named Blitzen. Sakiko had seen her in action many times. Her brazen grin and energy as she zapped away the city's villains had been a comfort to her – to everyone.

Was she like Ryūjin too?

Sakiko retreated to her bedroom, hiding all her gathered information in the suitcase under her bed. It was the same suitcase she had brought with her when she moved into her grandmother's house. The inside still smelled of her old home.

Ryūjin's unrepentant grinning face flashed into her mind and she dug her nails into the case's leathery insides.

She sat down at her desk and opened her notepad. She clenched her fist and tried to regulate her breathing. Now the Hero Killer had murdered a total of fourteen pro heroes. Stain hadn't killed a hero so quickly after another before.

Sakiko's heart pounded. Time was running out.

Her grandmother had gone to sleep. All the lights in the house, save her desk lamp, were out.

 _It has to be now._

As quietly as she could, Sakiko slipped a torch, batteries, her phone into a backpack, slid a small knife into her trouser pocket and opened her bedroom window. Carefully, so carefully, she inched her way out into the cold night and dropped down onto the grass with a soft thump.

Looking around, she secured her backpack and walked down the front garden path to the gate and out into the street. In her mind she pictured the killer his victims had described: a man armed to the teeth with blades, his body built and clad for combat, his eyes hidden by a mask.

She turned left and did not look back.

* * *

Alleyways and backstreets; Sakiko knew a few, but the city had such an elaborate network of streets, like capillaries scurrying out from the main arteries, that it was impossible for her to navigate without the help of her GPS and a torch.

One hand clutched the knife in her pocket as she crept down passageways and peered around dark corners, listening, always listening. Sometimes she heard voices, shouting, hushed whispers, but she kept out of the way and out of sight. A passing reveller raised her plucked eyebrows and asked if she was lost, but Sakiko shook her head and continued on.

Sakiko first thought that a good lead to the Hero Killer would be police sirens, but that could mean any number of other criminal activities, and most importantly, by the time the police arrived on the scene Stain was always long gone. There was a chance that he was still nearby, but regardless, the best window of opportunity was prior to or immediately following an attack.

Secure in her limits, Sakiko pushed forward through the darkness. Her heart thumped against her ribcage as she walked, watching, listening. Every step she took reminded her of how far she had gone and how huge the walls that enclosed her in the network of veins were.

How quiet everything seemed, aside from the distant drone of cars and late-night entertainment in the city centre, the shriek of a siren, the yell of a thug or the insane laughter of drunken party-goers.

The deeper she went the quieter these noises became, until eventually they too were suffocated by the walls and snuffed out.

The hours crawled by. Sakiko felt her eyes sagging, her limbs straining. All that was keeping her alert was the sheer nakedness of her existence in this labyrinth. Weapon or no weapon, she was powerless against any criminal, Quirkless and otherwise, who targeted her. With every step she defied the urge to run.

 _I have to find him!_ her rage exploded.

 _But how can you if you're dead?_ her reason replied. _What about Grandma?_

Sakiko stopped. She bit her lip, swallowing down a hard, aching lump in her throat. She turned around and began to retrace her steps, following the endless twists and turns back to her quiet suburban world. She saw her house, and felt as if she had returned from another realm. Entering through her bedroom window, Sakiko listened.

Silence.

Changing as carefully as she could, she crawled into bed. Her body sank into the mattress and nestled in the sheets. The sun had just barely begun to peek over the horizon and tinge the night sky with a reddish hue.

Sakiko recalled the glaring red of the evening sun as she had made her vow and her eyes welled up with tears.

 _Next time,_ she told herself. _Next time, I'll…_

Finally, she gave in, and sleep enveloped her like the walls of the darkened alleys.

* * *

The next seven days were similarly empty. The weekend immediately following her first endeavour enabled Sakiko to explore the villain's favourite haunts by day. These daylight trips, however, were in vain. More than once she had only just managed to avoid the demons of the underworld, dashing back into the light and chaos of the main thoroughfares for safety. Small-time criminals and thugs feared the heroes who lived out in the open more than anything.

On the seventh day she fled after stumbling across a group of thugs in an alley. By sheer luck they were also Quirkless, and she was able to outrun them. She did not stop running until she was out in the main thoroughfare. There were people around, most returning home from work, and many a police officer on high alert for Stain.

Weak with relief, Sakiko sank down against the wall of a shop and fumbled for her phone. Before she realised what she was doing, her finger was hovering over her father's number.

It took a few seconds, but when she realised it, all the grief and the pain came rushing back and she sobbed. She had only about week left. Out of her sight, the Hero Killer had gone on to murder three more pros and injure another. The only person who could possibly bring her something like justice was slipping out of her reach.

Wiping a sleeve across her eyes, Sakiko cursed her weakness. She was going to find the Hero Killer no matter what. All the filth of the underworld would not be able to stop her.

She stood, dusting herself off.

Tomorrow she would try again.

* * *

Saturday left her with ample time to scour the city for Stain. While her grandmother went out, Sakiko left and followed the same route she had taken on the first night of her long search, stopping only briefly to eat snacks.

Morning faded into afternoon, and soft orange light filtered onto the narrow pathways, the walls either side bathed in shadow, their colours dull and muted. This part of the city truly felt like another realm, inhabited by ghosts and demons.

It was a demon whom Sakiko sought, armed with nothing but a knife and a mobile phone.

Sakiko stopped, thinking she heard a sound. She looked around. Nothing.

When she tried to walk again, however, Sakiko couldn't move her legs. She pulled, but they were stuck fast, as if some invisible force were holding them down.

She opened her mouth to cry out, but a shadowy hand leapt out and clamped it shut.

" _No, that's not good_ ," a voice whispered. " _You have to be nice._ "

Sakiko trembled in the shadow's grip. She couldn't even beg for her life.

The shadow shifted a little, as if disturbed by a gust of wind; its form took human shape, and the hand on Sakiko's mouth became rough, putrid flesh.

"I had a bad night," the voice whispered. Sakiko couldn't even flinch away from the sensation of his breath in her ear. "That bastard just wouldn't leave me alone. Maybe you can help me feel better. Just—"

 _Schlock._ A sound like an axe lodging into a piece of wood cut the attacker short. His head jerked forward and his body slumped against Sakiko's back. Released from his shadow she staggered under his weight. The dead man's body slid sideways and thudded to the ground.

Sakiko threw herself forwards and scrambled away gasping.

 _I'm alive. Oh God I'm alive!_

Looking back she saw the heavy black handle of a knife protruding from the back of the man's head.

A huge black figure dropped down into the alley and landed with an echoing slam. Moving towards the body, pale evening light washed the darkness away and revealed a hulking man clad in a dark, sleeveless combat suit laden with holsters in which multiple knives were sheathed. A ragged red scarf swayed by steel-guarded knees. Matted stands of black hair hung over his face as he bent over. Stretching out a powerful bandaged arm, he pulled the knife from the dead man's skull with one sharp tug.

Raising his face, the top half hidden behind a tattered mask, two red eyes looked squarely at her.

Any strength Sakiko had to stand left her body, as if spirited away. The all-powerful, all-encompassing, murderous passion in those eyes...

There was no doubt. This was the demon she sought – the Hero Killer, Stain.


End file.
